


purify

by thestarsaregivenonceonly



Category: Timmy Chalamet, Timothée Chalamet - Fandom, tim chalamet
Genre: F/M, timothee blurb, timothee chalamet blurb, timothee chalamet imagine, timothee imagine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 22:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21143912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsaregivenonceonly/pseuds/thestarsaregivenonceonly
Summary: Anonymous asked:Could you please write a blurb inspired by "Purify" by Placebo? Thaaank youuuu xoxox





	purify

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr same username xx

It was all blurry at first, the deafening aftermath, the what next?, the will you stay? Suddenly shapes were clear, he was still there, despite the surrounding destruction. There was debris everywhere. Some of the pieces were yours. Some of the pieces were his.

My love, my love, hold my hand and let’s pick them up together. One at a time.

Every kiss was balm to your chapped lips, every touch was cool relief on the burns. You wondered at first if it was just wishful thinking, a bandaid of sorts… wondered if he could feel the regret radiating from you, the forgiveness you wanted him to understand, the gratefulness for being given the chance to heal from what had happened. No need to speak of it. No need to go back. It was okay to examine the pieces as you put them back together. You had to see which ones went where, help each other with the ones you couldn’t reach. He kissed your neck, the inner part of your knee, the crease of your elbow, small pieces clicking back together like reforged metal. Glistening with a new shine, stronger as you came together again with a new purpose.

Every part of him was stunning. The way he walked, lean and tall. The curve of his smirk, the unruly hair he constantly tried to fix even though it would fall immediately back into place. His teeth, his mouth, the shape of his back, the taste of his neck. Everything just… shone like the sun. Healing was more beautiful in the sunlight. Warmth into the wounds, like sinking with an achy body into a hot bath. They say you can’t repeat the past with an old flame, but he was more than that. And it wasn’t repeating the past. It was creating a new future, one different than you had been walking toward. It was possible to change paths, to walk on opposite sides, holding his left hand instead of the right.

We can do this. I want you.

Tim’s light looked different every day, though. He had been glowing since you met him, but as the rough times changed him, he became dimmer, as if the light couldn’t quite shine through the skin anymore. But now… brighter spots, shining places that grew bigger with every passing sunrise and sunset. Growing more, you swore he couldn’t possibly dazzle any brighter, and, yet, each morning, he did. Even if there were storm clouds in the sky, even if you were awake before the sun itself.

The sun was a wannabe now. Timmy was all there was.

Some of the pieces weren’t strong enough to stay in place without glue, and that was okay. Sometimes one fell out, and you had to place it back where it was supposed to be, hold it for 30 seconds… that was okay too. It was a process, growing back together, it wouldn’t happen all at one time. Sometimes you got in your head, is this taking too long? Why don’t we feel just right yet? But… then again… what exactly was ‘just right’? The just right of before wasn’t what you wanted anymore. Stop thinking. Just love him. Just let him love you. That’s all it had to be.

After a few months a new spark began to develop, a flaming, yellow and orange flicker that was scorching hot and swaying to a deep bass behind his eyes. It was strange, it had been years, but it felt like puppy dog love all over again. Sweet, lustful, delicious, sweaty, hungry. He was beginning to just move without asking, kissing you out of nowhere, climbing on top of you within seconds… but he wouldn’t push. He knew when not to act, he stopped when/if you said no… he knew his boundaries. But he knew his green lights too.

Dark, endless nights in his bed. Sometimes he would take it slow, purposely kissing every part of your body, drawing it out as long as he could take it, pushing back until he exploded into echoing cries. Sometimes he was impatient, leaving the dress on and holding your leg in the air, now, now, now. Sometimes his passion almost gave you sunburn, loud and greedy and hunger dripping from his tongue. But he was always the same afterward. Soft, loving, emanating warmth and desire, even in the afterglow. A desire that would persist no matter how many times you shook the room with him.

Rain on the roof, Timothée said it was your song. His face was pink, flushed, eyes shiny and loving. Laying on his side, his hand caressed the side of your face gently, a tentative thumb moving along your bottom lip and pressing down on it. You watched him with utter fascination, unconsciously lifting a naked leg up to wrap it around his body again. He chuckled, cheeks now crimson.

“You know, for a short time, I thought I’d never be like this with you again.”

Your heart sputtered in confusion, the daydream shifting to a complete awareness of all of the pieces still not fully in place. “What?”

He wiggled himself closer until his stomach and chest were pressed against yours, one long arm wrapping around your back. He looked so serious yet so safe, comforting, like he would protect you from anything, even words out of his own mouth.

“I didn’t think I’d have this ever again. The ability to kiss you… hold you in bed… touch you like this…” His green eyes were all over your face now, bouncing from yours to your nose, your lips, your forehead, hairline, jaw, ears… he was soaking you in like a sponge afraid he’d never soak in another drop again. The hand that had wrapped behind your back now traveled curiously along your hip, moving inward and down to the inside of your thigh. It drew the oxygen from your lungs instantly in a sharp gasp, it was impossible not to kiss him. He kissed you back eagerly, a twitch, a shift, he was hard against your stomach again. Fuck. To lay here like this with him… you wished you could stay there forever.

“I didn’t think so either,” you mumbled, strangely needing him to know you felt the same way. Your head settled against the pillow, heavy, exhaled breath from the both of you filling the space between your faces. “It made me sick. I love you.”

He beamed, there it was, another spot of gleaming sunshine. Right at the corner of his mouth, radiating with heat and beauty. “I love you so much.”

You suddenly felt like there had never been glue in the pieces at all. Stitches, or perhaps, what you had originally thought… a bandaid… something to hold the both of you together until you healed and could stand alone again.

The next morning was cold, drizzling rain sashaying down the windows in chaotic patterns. You stood in the kitchen and flipped pancakes, your freshly showered hair hanging loose and dripping its own raindrops onto an old t-shirt of his.

“Bonjour, mon amour.” His voice was raspy as it always was in the morning, and you turned to find him moving slowly into the room, one hand rubbing furiously at his left eye. You turned the heat of the stove off and faced him, tilting your head to one side. His hair looked ridiculous and stood out from nine different angles. No doubt at all. Complete. Whole. You wondered if he knew, for it wasn’t something you necessarily wanted to say out loud. He either felt it or he didn’t — but you had a hunch.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

“I think I’d be fine as wine to wake up every morning with you like this from now on,” he muttered, kissing you harder than you would have expected first thing in the morning. It was more intoxicating than you were ready for, and soon he had you sitting on the counter with both legs wrapped around his back. You kept trying to find words, thoughts, sanity, even a syllable… Nothing existed but him and the way he was kissing you.

“I want to tell people about you.”

You pulled back immediately, hands still tangled in his hair, your chest heaving. “Baby, what?”

He bit down on his lower lip and pressed his forehead against yours. “Does that scare you? This involves the both of us, and I’m not going to go public unless you’re 100% in with me.”

You were speechless. Timmy had never gone public with anybody, at least not making a definitive statement. Being seen together was one thing, maybe even kissing, but making a specific post or answering a question with direct affirmation was an entirely different thing. “Are you sure…? Where… why… where did this come from?” He laughed when you stuttered, causing you to giggle the final words of the sentence rather than say them.

“I just want to talk about you with people, I want to stand with you at my events, I want to post about you and brag and be gross and mushy about it.” Now you were laughing, head back, stomach aching. “I’m serious!”

“I know you are, I know,” you smirked into his mouth, kissing him happily and wrapping your arms around his neck. “How do you want to do this?”

“C’mere.” Tim lifted you from the counter and pulled you into the bathroom, turning one of the brighter lights off so the one next to the mirror stood alone. He handed you his phone and wrapped his arms tightly around your middle, nuzzling his face in the side of your neck so only his wild curls were visible. You laughed loudly and took several photos, it was classic Timmy to hide his face from the camera even if this was a specifically personal statement. Would he delete it after twenty minutes as well?

He posted the photo a few minutes later, choosing one of the more blurry shots in which your mouth was open in laughter and writing in the caption the singular word: you.


End file.
